Sévérine
by Reve DeParis
Summary: Sévérine is desperate to escape and James Bond is more than willing to eliminate her tormentor for his own gain. It seems like a win win situation for both of them, but one should never underestimate the villian that is Raoul Silva. Sévérine's survival depends on Bond now. Will she ever be able to escape her torturous past?
1. Chapter 1:Fear

**A/N: After watching Skyfall last weekend, I found myself so intrigued by Sévérine. B****ér****énice Marlohe did a wonderful job of bringing so much depth to the character with such subtlety. I really wish she could have been in the movie more, but alas, Skyfall probably would have ended up being 4 hours long instead of 2 and a half. Anyways, this is my attempt at expanding the character of **** Sévérine and her backstory. I hope you enjoy! Rating will be for M due to adult themes and Spoilers will be present so I suggest you watch the movie before reading!**

**************p.s. Reviews and constructive criticism are highly appreciated :)**

**************disclaimer: (it pains me to say this): but I own nothing that pertains to the 007 franchise...but it would be kinda cool if I did...**

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"You're scared." Bond said.

Sévérine stared at Bond. She had spoken with this man for merely a few minutes, and yet he was already making assumptions about her. _Who did this man think he was exactly? He knew nothing about her.  
_

"Thank you for the drink, Mr. Bond." she said flatly, getting up to leave.

Bond grasped her arm lightly to prevent her from leaving. Sévérine flinched, stealing a quick glance towards her bodyguards as she sat back down. She didn't want to cause a scene.

"You put on a good show," Bond continued. "but ever since we sat down you haven't stopped looking at your bodyguards. Now, three of them is a bit excessive, they're controlling you, they're not protecting you."

Bond gripped Sévérine's wrist a little tighter and turned it upwards. "The tattoo on your wrist is of Macau's sex trade. You belong to one of the houses. What were you twelve? Thirteen?"

Sévérine winced as he said this, perhaps he was a lot more observant than she pegged him for.

Bond observed her reaction, he knew his assumptions were correct so far. "I'm guessing he was your way out. Perhaps you thought you were in love. But that was a long time ago."

Sévérine yanked her arm away from Bond's grip. She refused to be read like an open book.

"You know nothing about it." she said sternly.

Bond backed off a little, realizing that he was upsetting her. "I know when a woman is afraid and pretending not to be."

"How much do you know about fear?" Sévérine challenged back.

James paused before he answered Sévérine. He couldn't help but notice how scared the girl seemed now. "All there is." he said.

"Not like this," Sévérine's mouth trembled. She thought back to how she had gotten herself into this mess in the first place. Even after all these years, she could still remember Silva's burning gaze the moment he had first laid eyes on her. "…not like him."

Silva had intrigued her so much back then. She couldn't help but notice how different he had seemed from all the other men that she had been forced to sleep with before. But she was too young to see him for what he truly was; at the time, Sévérine was just an eighteen year old girl with so much to learn. Silva gave off the appearance of a true gentleman, with his sleek hair and custom tailored suit. He walked the streets of Macau with confidence and grandeur. It was no surprise that he stuck out from the usual mundane crowd when he visited the slums that Sévérine had grown so accustomed to. All the women; Sévérine included, wanted to lay with Silva, in hopes that he would take pity on one of them, and rescue them from the hell that they lived in. Looking back now, she wished she could have caught on to Silva more quickly. After she fell for his charm and was whisked away from that oppressing whore house in Macau, it was only a matter of time before she realized that Silva was indeed different from all the other men she had come to know…he was much, much worse.

That burning gaze of Silva's use to melt Sévérine, fill her with lust, it used to feel so good to be wanted by a man that was so powerful. But soon enough that gaze started to feel different to her, it scorched her, his need for power over her consumed Sévérine in seething flames causing her to crumble slowly from within.

"I can help you." Bond said with confidence.

Sévérine snapped out of her reverie and raised her eyebrow in skepticism, the last time she heard that statement was from Silva himself nine years ago. She had truly believed that Silva would help her back then, how could she not? She was so desperate to escape the sex trade business she would have believed anyone willing to offer a way out.

_Look where that led me_. She thought bitterly.

"I don't think so." Sévérine replied. She was no longer that naïve 18 year-old girl. Nine long years with Silva had changed her. Nine long years of his torture and mind games had drained all the fight out of her and forced her to see the world as a cynical, inescapable, abyss.

"Let me try." Bond continued.

Sévérine had to admit, if anything this man was persistent. "How?" she asked, curious to know what exactly this man's plan was.

"Bring me to him." He said simply, conveying to her that he would take care of everything else that would occur after that.

She could feel that familiar sense of desperation stirring within her._ This man took care of Patrice; a contracted killer, with ease. Maybe he would stand a chance against Silva._ "Can you kill him?" she asked.

"Yes." He replied.

Sévérine was taking a great risk in trusting this man. If Bond backed out at the last minute it would without a doubt mean her demise at the hands of Silva. She needed his word. "_Will_ you?" She pressed on with a hint of urgency.

Bond shrugged his shoulders. From Sévérine's subtle reflexes he could tell that her employer was probably just another power-hungry creep who slapped his women around to feel superior, he had dealt with far more worse villains.

"Someone usually dies." he smiled.

Sévérine laughed at this, she could see that Bond had no idea what he was putting himself up against, if he wanted to be arrogant and believe that she was nothing but a weak damsel in distress who didn't know how to defend herself, then so be it.

"Perhaps you can." Sévérine said finally. She leaned her back against her chair and regarded the man in front of her. _What would it hurt to let him try? Maybe he really could help her escape from Silva. After all, it was at least worth an attempt_.

"When I leave they are going to kill you." Sévérine said, referring to her bodyguards. "If you survive I'm on the Chimera: North Harbor, Bath 7. We cast off in an hour."

Sévérine stood up and shook Bond's hand "Very nice to have met you Mr. Bond." Looking him dead in the eyes,

"Good Luck." She added, meaning it with all her heart.

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**A/N: Well? What did you think? Chapter two will hopefully be up soon :)**


	2. Chapter 2:Chimera

**A/N: First off, a thank you to C.Q, Jenna and Osage for the reviews! I'm glad you guys are liking the story so far. Sévérine's early relationship with Silva will definitely be a big part of this fic in the next upcoming chapters so stay tuned :)**

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Sévérine stared at the two empty champagne glasses on the table. She had gotten ahead of herself and set them out in anticipation of Bond's arrival, they were meant to be a symbol of celebration, a toast to her new future; her liberation from Silva. However, a quick glance at the clock on the wall told her that the end of the allotted hour was drawing near. She looked out of the boat window eagerly, expecting him to emerge from the shadow of night. But James Bond was nowhere to be seen.

She heard a sudden quick knock at the door. "Yes?" Sévérine called out. Her heart pounding rapidly in her chest, deep in her heart she knew he would show up.

But her face fell when she saw that it was one of Silva's henchmen.

"It's time to cast off." He said to her.

Sévérine did her best to hide the disappointment on her face. "Alright" she said.

The tall man eyed her suspiciously, before heading back to the upper deck of the boat. She exhaled as she watched the door close behind him. Sévérine was all too familiar with being disappointed, but she hadn't prepared herself for this. She didn't expect to feel so hurt, so hopeless.

She turned away from the champagne glasses. She couldn't bear looking at them any longer. They were as empty as the promises Bond made to her. She walked towards the mirror and scrutinized what was in front of her.

"_You're a damn fool."_ She whispered to her reflection, blaming herself for getting her hopes so high.

A sense of heaviness weighed down on her as she realized that she would never escape, that this was her life and it always would be; no matter how hard she tried to break free, she would forever be ensnared in Silva's grasp.

Sévérine could feel tears stinging behind her eyes, but in that moment she refused to let them fall. She headed towards the shower hoping the water would wash away all the evidence of her sadness.

Beads of warm water poured down over Sévérine. As she stood in the shower, memories from long ago flooded her mind. She wished these memories would swirl down the drain as easily as her tears had, but her past was just another thing in her life that she just couldn't escape.

There had been something about Bond that she noticed at the casino. She couldn't quite figure out what it was. All she knew was that it had been enough to make her believe that he would help her escape from Silva. It was upsetting for her to realize that her only chance at salvation was most likely dead, trashed in some alley dumpster by her so called bodyguards. Now she would never truly understand why she believed in Bond so much. Sévérine sleeked back her wet hair with her hands, allowing the water to rush over her face. She hated feeling so lost.

A sudden strange feeling that someone was watching her caused Sévérine's ears to perk up. Her body stood frozen in fear as she sensed the person coming closer. She assumed it was one of Silva's henchmen looking for something entertaining to do until they arrived on the island, it wouldn't be the first time one of them barged in on her privacy to have their way with her.

She trembled as she felt a pair of cold hands caress her hips, her eyes shut instinctively, dreading what was coming next. Tonight in particular had left her so emotionally drained that she wasn't sure how much of a fight she would be able to put up against whomever was pursuing her this time.

"I like you better without your Beretta." the man said, gently kissing her at the base of her neck.

Sévérine dismissed the fear she had earlier as she heard the familiar voice of Bond. A small sense of relief washed over her, perhaps all her hopes in escaping Silva weren't lost after all.

The vulnerability Sévérine showed only when she was alone had instantly disappeared, to be replaced by the role of temptress that she was so accustomed to switching on in front of men. "I feel naked without it." she said seductively, leaning her body closer to Bond. Bond turned Sévérine around to face him, his arms tightening around her waist.

"I almost thought you wouldn't come." she breathed, her fingers lightly tracing the lines of Bond's face, doing so to reassure herself that Bond was truly standing in front of her and not just a figment of her imagination.

Bond leaned in closer, "I said I would help didn't I?" He gently lifted Sévérine's chin, brushing his lips against hers before kissing her.

Sévérine wrapped her arms around him and kissed him back full force. She tried to remember the last time she had kissed someone the way she was kissing Bond now, with such urgency and intensity. Bond's hands slid over every inch of her body, leaving trails of goose bumps in their wake. She could barely breathe as both of their bodies pressed closer to each other, still she refused to let go. Bond held her solidly as their kiss continued to deepen, her body burning with desire. She felt as though she were melting into his lips.

Everything stopped when Sévérine let out an audible gasp and immediately pushed herself away from Bond, clearly looking shaken.

"What's wrong?" Bond asked with concern, bewilderment was written all across his face.

"Nothing—I…" Sévérine's breathing was ragged and uneven. She took a deep breath to regain her composure, her hands still shaking slightly.

Sévérine cleared her throat "It's nothing." She said more strongly as she got a hold of her emotions. "I thought I heard someone coming in. I assumed it was one of Silva's henchmen." She pretended to look over her shoulder to make the explanation of her sudden behavior more believable.

Bond shut off the water and quickly checked behind the glass shower door, "I secured all the doors after I arrived, if anyone tries barging in, I will be ready for them." He reassured her.

Sévérine nodded, "Thank you." she said. Any slight evidence of fear was now gone from her voice, though her heart was still hammering in her chest.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Bond asked, "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Honestly, I'm fine." Severine said, she moved closer to Bond, her face mere inches from his.

"However," she added as she gently stroked Bond's hair away from his eyes, "If you would be so kind, there is one more thing you could do for me."

"Really?" he asked, intrigued. "And what exactly might that be?"

Sévérine smiled seductively, "If I'm not mistaken, you still owe me that second drink Mr. Bond."

Bond chuckled, "Is that right?" he asked. Still not breaking eye contact with her he reached for the white linen towel that was folded neatly over the shower door and wrapped it around his waist. "Well then," he smiled, "I'll get right on it."

Sévérine watched him walk away towards the main room before grabbing her robe and wrapping it around herself. She could feel her hands shaking again. Kissing Bond had made her feel something so familiar that it was impossible for her not to feel scared.

_Get ahold of yourself! _She demanded inwardly before heading out of the shower to follow Bond.


	3. Chapter 3: New Beginnings

**A/N: Thank you guys so much for the reviews! This chapter was a little tougher to write without the use of scenes of the movie for reference, but it also ended up being A LOT longer than I expected, so that's good I suppose. :). Let me know what you think, I hope you enjoy!**

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"What'll it be?" Bond asked as Sévérine walked into the room. Bond gestured towards the bottle of champagne that was sitting in a silver polished ice bucket next to two empty fluted glasses.

Sévérine gave a small smile. She knew that she needed to calm her nerves. "I'm in the mood for something a little stronger," she said. "I believe there's a fairly decent scotch in the lower left cabinet.

Bond walked behind the bar and grabbed a tall glass bottle from the wooden lacquered cabinet.

"Fifty-year old Macallan," Bond said in approval. "I love a woman with good taste." He poured the scotch into two rounded glass tumblers, handing one to Sévérine.

"So," he said, raising his glass, "what shall we toast to?"

Sévérine paused for a moment.

"To new beginnings" she said softly, raising her glass towards Bond's. Bond clinked his glass against hers and watched in amusement as Sévérine finished her scotch with ease. She was already reaching for the bottle before Bond interrupted her.

"Allow me." He said, gently taking the bottle from her hands and pouring her another glass of scotch.

Sévérine discreetly pulled the sleeve of her satin robe over her wrist after Bond handed her the glass, noticing that Bond had been eyeing it.

"I apologize, I didn't mean to—"

"Don't." Sévérine cut him off, "There's no need to apologize Mr. Bond. After all, you certainly aren't the first man to stare at my tattoo."

For a long time, Sévérine had hated her tattoo. It reminded her of who she was, or _what_ she was, rather. She remembered how her house mother had brought her into a room where a heavily tattooed man awaited her with his crude bamboo implements. She had kicked and screamed as her house mother restrained her to the ground. Sévérine didn't want this, she had known what the tattoo would mean; that it would seal her fate. She was just a child back then. Too young to have her life be imprisoned in something so horrible. But Sévérine's cries went unheard. The tattooed man impatiently dipped his tools in the jet black ink ignoring Sévérine's protests; he had heard it all before.

At one point in her life, years after Silva had taken her away from the trade house in Macau; Sévérine had considered getting the tattoo removed. But in the end decided against it, she realized that removing her tattoo wouldn't change anything. It wouldn't restore the tears she had shed, or take away the countless pairs of hands that had groped her body every night, or silence the cutting words that angry wives spat at her when she walked the street. Nothing she did could take those moments away, she could have that tattoo erased on the surface but Sévérine knew that deep down she could never escape the identity that the tattoo had burdened her with.

Sévérine jumped a little when she felt Bond place her hand in his; turning her wrist upwards like he did at the casino. "Did it hurt?" he asked. She shivered as he delicately brushed his thumb over the tattoo.

"Like hell." She replied with a sad smile, if she thought back hard enough she could almost feel the sting of the bamboo needle against her wrist.

"You were right." She said.

"Pardon?" Bond asked, unsure of what Sévérine was talking about.

"Earlier tonight, at the casino." she explained. "You guessed that I must have been about twelve or thirteen when I was initiated into one of the trade houses. You were right. I was twelve."

"You're quite good with guessing numbers." she added, "It's a shame my father wasn't as lucky." Sévérine slid her hand out of Bond's to take a small sip of her scotch. It had been so long since she had allowed herself to think this far back into her past.

Bond stared attentively at Sévérine; it was hard not to notice the bitterness in her voice at the mention of her father. "Is he the reason why you ended up in the sex trade?" Bond asked.

Sévérine nodded, taking another drink from her glass. "My father being a drunk in one of the largest gaming capitals of the world inevitably led to some pretty poor decisions on his part."

"It wasn't long before those poor decisions would catch up with him." she continued, remembering the two men in dark suits that had barged into their home many years ago, demanding that her father pay his debts.

_He had desperately started searching between chair cushions and drawers as though he expected the money to appear out of thin air. Hidden behind her bedroom door, young Sévérine watched in fear as the two men continued to yell at her father, beating him and threatening him with their shiny black guns. He begged them on his hands and knees insisting that he would pay them if they gave him more time. They refused to listen, vowing to burn both him and his house to the ground if he didn't pay up that instant._

"_Stop!" she yelled, running protectively towards him. She had never gotten along with her father, but he was her only family now and she refused to let these men continue to humiliate and belittle him. _

_Sévérine would never forget the look on her father's face that day, a mixture of relief and desperation when he saw her run into the living room. A knowing look passed between the men as Sévérine's father removed himself from her embrace and crawled up from the floor, sitting down in one of the dining chairs. He clumsily poured himself a glass of gin, draining it immediately. _

"_She's twelve." Her father informed the men, staring at them with pleading eyes._

_Sévérine wondered why the two men had stopped looking so angry and were now staring at her intently. What did her age have to do with any of this? One of them circled her slowly, his eyes roving over her body, like a lion preparing to pounce upon prey. _

"_She's pretty." The other man said, gently brushing her face with the back of his leather gloved hand. Sévérine slapped it away immediately. The man laughed at this, "So much fight in this one." He said with amusement._

"_What will become of my debt?" Sévérine's father asked the two men._

"_It will be forgotten." One of them replied._

_Sévérine's father nodded, this was what he needed to hear. He tilted the gin bottle and poured himself another glass before nervously taking a sip with his trembling hands._

"_Take her." He said finally, avoiding making any eye contact with his only daughter. Sévérine stared at him in confusion. But the two men seemed to understand perfectly what he had meant. One walked towards her, grabbing her swiftly to sling her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. _

_Sévérine screamed. Pounding her fists against the suited man's back. "Let me go!" she demanded. _

"_Father!" she yelled over and over again, struggling to break away from the suited man's grip. But her father did not even bother to stand as the two men left with Sévérine, there was no kiss goodbye, no begging of forgiveness for what he had done to her. Sévérine wouldn't see her father again for a very long time. _

_After being forced to spend the night with the two suited men she was sold to the highest bidder; a seedy brothel nestled in the Northern District of Macau._

Sévérine stopped speaking. She wasn't sure why she was saying all this to Bond. It had been so long since she had talked about her past to anyone. The only other person she had told her story to had been Silva, but that was years ago, when he use to actually listen to what Sévérine had to say. These days she didn't talk much unless Silva ordered her to. It felt strange to be sitting there now having a conversation with a man who truly seemed to be listening to her every word. Most of the men in Sévérine's life tended to be the exact opposite of good listeners.

"Did your mother have any say in this?" Bond asked.

"I'm afraid not." Sévérine said, tilting her glass and staring deeply into the amber liquid that swilled around in it. "She died when I was nine, traffic accident."

Sévérine continued to stare vacantly into her glass of scotch. She never enjoyed thinking about her mother. It was hard for her to come to terms with the fact that the memory of her mother was steadily fading. She couldn't remember the exact day it started happening, all she knew was that little by little she had started to forget the sound of her mother's voice and the fragrance of her perfume. Life in a brothel was harsh and unforgiving. Pretty soon the lines of her mother's face had also begun to blur away with time. The only thing left to replace the images in Sévérine's mind were of sneering men and rough hands.

A sudden sadness filled Sévérine, she was tired of talking, tired of thinking about all the things that kept her up at night.

"It's hard for you to remember her, isn't it?" Bond said knowingly. His parents had died in a climbing accident when he was eleven. He was all too familiar with the look Sévérine had on her face now, it was the same one he saw whenever he looked at his reflection in the mirror.

"Are you always so perceptive?" Sévérine asked, masking the anger in her voice with playfulness. She hated the way Bond was able to see right through all of her defenses. What was it about Bond that made her open up so easily? She wondered.

"It's one of the many talents I picked up over the years." Bond replied.

Sévérine stared into Bond's piercing blue eyes. His gaze never wavered. He seemed so confident and sure of himself. It terrified her as she felt a familiar pull towards him, like a moth drawn to a flame. "You remind me of him." She said quietly.

"Who?" Bond asked.

"My employer, the one you're so keen on meeting; Silva." Sévérine said, quivering just at the mention of his name. She had pulled away from Bond in the shower earlier for a reason, something in the way he kissed her, so powerfully and boldly. It was all too familiar for her. Sévérine realized now as she stared at Bond that he and Silva were two men cut from the same cloth. They both had that haunted look about them, as though they had seen things and done things that only men with licenses to kill could do. The way Bond had held her in his arms made Sévérine feel safe, yet at the same time it frightened her. Years ago, Silva's embrace had made her feel the very same way, safe and protected. But as Silva's hunger for power grew, his warm embrace changed, the comforting warmth was replaced with flames morphing into something dangerous that secured and locked Sévérine in his possession, leaving her scorched and scarred. She hoped with all her heart that her fate with Bond wouldn't turn out the same way.

"Silva?" Bond pondered the name, "He sounds a little full of himself. I guess I can see why I remind you of him." He teased.

Bond was attempting to keep the mood light between Sévérine and himself, but secretly his pulse was quickening, he hadn't expected his plan to have worked so swiftly. He had purposefully stared at her tattoo earlier and she took the bait, spilling her heart out to him. Every now and then a woman just needed someone to talk to, Bond surmised. He couldn't imagine how lonely she must have been all these years; first trapped under the rule of a whore house, only to be whisked away and imprisoned yet again by her so called employer. But he refused to feel guilty about swindling Sévérine with her own emotions. He needed to know if she was still loyal to her employer or if she was truly seeking escape. Bond had admittedly fallen for the damsel in distress routine before, and he'll be damned if he let it happen to him again. It was up to Bond to determine if Sévérine was setting him up in a trap. The lives of MI6 agents were in his hands. He wasn't going to allow something as petty as guilt, destroy the agents' chance of survival.

Sévérine hesitated as Bond stepped closer to her. She knew that he noticed how uncomfortable she felt when talking about Silva.

"Don't be afraid." He said, brushing a strand of hair away from her eyes, "I promised that I would help, and I intend to keep that promise."

Sévérine closed her eyes, resting her cheek against Bond's caressing hand for a brief moment. It felt nice to be promised such things, to be held so gently by a man who seemed to have no intention to hurt her. She was so tired of Silva's mind games and his never ending hunger for power over her that she just wanted everything to stop, even if only for a brief moment. But that nagging voice in her head prevented her from doing so, it warned her, screaming for her not to trust Bond. Sévérine knew all too well what ends up happening when you put all your trust into the wrong man. She could feel herself slipping out of control, slowly falling for Bond's charm. She needed to regain control of the situation and ensure that Bond would keep his promise to her. Deciding she would have to do so the only way she knew how.

Sévérine opened her eyes and took a small step away from Bond. "Can I let you in on a little secret, Mr. Bond?" She asked.

"I'm all ears." Bond replied, staring directly at Sévérine.

"You've been making observations about me all night, and I am impressed by your accuracy." She said, "But I must admit, I've made a few observations myself."

"I'm intrigued." Bond grinned, "Tell me what you've deduced about me so far."

Still looking into Bond's glacier blue eyes; she gently tugged at the knot of her satin and lace robe. "I know that ever since we laid eyes on each other at the casino, you've done nothing but stare down my dress all night."

"Forgive me," Bond smiled apologetically, "but it's been difficult averting my eyes from someone as strikingly beautiful as you."

Sévérine laughed lightly, letting her robe slip past her shoulders as she drew herself closer to Bond. "Well, Mr. Bond. We could stand here all night staring and talking, or we could actually do something about it."

"I actually enjoy listening to what you have to say." Bond replied smoothly. But he couldn't help but notice that every arc and curve of Sévérine's body was just barely visible beneath her thin silver robe. He caught a glimpse of the toned flesh of her abdomen as she let the knot of her robe untangle.

Sévérine smiled as she leaned towards Bond, noticing the look of desire in his eyes. Her lips barely brushed his ear. "Yes, well I've grown tired of talking." She said, letting her robe fall to the floor.

She could feel the burn of the alcohol spreading from the pit of her stomach throughout her chest. Sévérine felt so desperate, she wanted Bond to keep his promise, and this was the only way she thought would ensure it to happen. She supposed in a perfect world, men did nice things out of the goodness of their hearts. Bur Sévérine's world was far from perfect. She assumed that every man, even seemingly kind ones like Bond had their price. All her life, this was what she was taught, what she was forced to do. There was no shame now, as Sévérine slid her hand to Bond's waist, letting his white linen towel drop to the floor, she had abandoned that emotion a long time ago. Sévérine's hope at the possibility of a better life consumed her. She was willing to do anything necessary to ensure that Bond would take care of Silva.

Bond caressed her hips drawing her naked body closer to his before kissing her, tasting the burn of scotch on her warm lips as he guided her to the bed, picking up where they had left off in the shower.


	4. Chapter 4:Shiver

**Hey guys! First off, thanks for the reviews :). I know many of you have been eagerly awaiting to see more of Silva, I can safely say that he will be making a much more prominent appearance in chapter 5 (finally!) Until then I've introduced an OC in this chapter, who will be playing a small role in the story. I don't want to give too much away so I'll just leave it at that...**

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"_Please!" Sévérine begged trying to pull her wrist away from Silva's vice like grip. "Raoul let me go, you're hurting me!" she cried._

_Silva gripped Sévérine even tighter, "I did what I had to do." He said, roughly yanking her closer to him, his face only inches away from hers._

_Sévérine could feel his hot breath on her face. She whimpered in pain, feeling something crack in her wrist as Silva clutched her, forcing her to look at him. His eyes were full of the kind of fury she didn't know he was capable of. "You were always mine." He said through gritted teeth. "Have you forgotten? You belong to me!"_

Sévérine jolted awake, gasping for air and drenched in a cold sweat. She searched the room frantically, expecting Silva to be looming over her ready to pounce, but he was nowhere in sight. The only thing that greeted Sévérine's eyes was darkness.

_It was only a nightmare. _She sighed, her breathing slowly steadying. The nightmare had felt so real that she could still feel a ghostly pain in her wrist, she held it lightly in her other hand thumbing over the small bump; evidence of where her broken wrist had healed years ago. Sévérine sat up and glanced over at Bond who was lying sound asleep next to her.

Glad that she hadn't waked him, she quietly got out of bed and grabbed her robe off the floor, slipping it over her naked body and heading towards the bathroom.

Gripping the edges of the white marble sink, Sévérine stared at herself in the mirror; examining the dark circles under her eyes and rumpled hair, feeling about as tired as she looked.

It had merely been a few hours since she had taken her last dose and already she was feeling the effects of withdrawal. She opened the mirror medicine cabinet grabbing a flimsy rubber tube and one of the many syringes that lined its shelves. Sitting on the cold bathroom floor with her back against the tiled wall, Sévérine lifted the sleeve of her robe, expertly wrapping the tourniquet and placing the needle against her forearm. She closed her eyes in relief as the cold needle pierced her skin, feeling an all too familiar burn coursing through her veins.

She could remember vividly that the longest she had ever gone without a dose of heroin had been about two weeks. But that was a long time ago, when she had felt stronger and determined; resilient enough to attempt to escape from her life in the brothel. But eventually the withdrawals were what ultimately forced her to come crawling back less than a month later with her head hung low. These days she could barely last a few hours without shooting up.

**9 years ago:**

_Sévérine sat on the beach, her bare feet buried in the cold and wet sand, knees hugged to her chest as she watched the steely gray waves crash against the shore. A haunting chill settled deep within her bones. She hugged her arms tighter around herself as she felt her body continue to shiver uncontrollably. It had been roughly two weeks since Sévérine had run away from the brothel in the dead of night, leaving with nothing but the clothes on her back, two weeks since she had last felt the familiar sting of a heroin needle. She knew now that it wasn't just the cold that was causing her to tremble so violently. Her addiction to the drug was like a heavy shackle clamped around her delicate foot keeping her irrevocably tethered to a life she so desperately wanted to flee. _

_Tears stung her eyes, sliding down her cheeks along with the icy rain that was pouring heavily. Every inch of her body ached, Sévérine felt dizzy and unsteady from both hunger and heroin withdrawal. Despite the weather and the condition that she was in she had made the journey to the ocean shore, realizing that this would most likely be the last time she would ever see the ocean and feel the sand between her toes again. As Sévérine sat there, a sense of hopelessness consumed her heart; she had tried to escape her life in the brothel only to fail miserably. She knew that she wouldn't be able to last another day on her own, sleeping in alleyways and tirelessly begging for food or money to no avail. There was nothing else she could do now but turn back and plead her house mother for forgiveness. _

_With a heavy heart she stood up and walked away from the ocean, returning to her horrible reality with nothing but the bitter taste of defeat in her mouth._

* * *

_Sévérine lifted the handle of the heavy brass door knocker, slamming it against the dark wooden doors of the brothel, hearing the echo of her knocks clanging through the building. The sound always sent a chill down her spine. _

_She leaned against the door frame for support, hunched over in pain, her nails clawing at her own arms as she felt another tremor racking through her body. Her ragged clothes drenched from the rain, loosely clinging to her. Her hair plastered to her face, the dark circles under her eyes like bruises tingeing her pale, wet skin._

_The narrow, rectangle peephole in the door slid open suddenly. A pair of eyes appearing behind them, Sévérine stared back at them pleadingly already knowing who those eyes belonged to, she could recognize that cutting look anywhere. The peephole immediately slid shut. Sévérine breathed in relief as she heard bolts unlocking from behind the door. _

"_You look like hell." Sévérine's house mother said. Staring in disgust at the state that Sévérine was in._

"_I—I'm sorry." Was all Sévérine managed to say. It was so difficult for her to talk when her teeth were chattering so violently. She wasn't sure what exactly it was she was sorry about either. __**Sorry for running away and not being strong enough to survive on my own?**__ She thought bitterly._

"_I'm guessing the outside world wasn't all you hoped it would be?" House Mother asked, a satisfied smirk playing across her face as she watched Sévérine continue to suffer, still not letting her inside and away from the cold._

_Sévérine shook her head in defeat, breaking eye contact and staring at the floor in shame. She couldn't bear seeing the mocking look on House Mother's face anymore;__** 'There was no doubt in my mind that you would return', **__it taunted._

"_You poor girl," House Mother said, feigning sympathy, as she stepped aside, finally granting Sévérine entry into the brothel, "You poor, stupid little girl."_

_Sévérine cringed at House Mother's harsh words. Dread filled her heart as she heard the heavy front door slam behind her with a tone of finality. The sound of pouring rain from outside muted instantly, leaving Sévérine standing with House Mother in the dimly lit front hall, an unnerving silence pressing against her ears._

_Sévérine yelped in pain suddenly, her cries breaking the quiet and resonating through the hallways of the brothel as House Mother gripped her by her hair forcing Sévérine to face her. _

"_Now you listen to me, Sévérine." House mother said. Her teeth gritted in anger, "If you ever try pulling a stunt like that again, I swear to God, I will beat you so hard you will be begging me for death." _

_Sévérine howled in agony as House Mother clenched at her head more forcefully. "Do you understand?" House Mother asked._

_Sévérine nodded, begging for her to let go. She gave Sévérine one last contemptuous look before roughly pushing her to the cold hardwood floor. _

"_Get yourself cleaned up," House Mother said, "you're working tonight." She threw a thin, rusted metal box carelessly towards Sévérine before walking away._

_Sévérine wiped the tears away from her eyes, picking up the metal box as she stood up, recognizing the rattling of a syringe and metal spoon from within as she staggered up the creaking wooden staircase to her bedroom._

* * *

"_Damn it." Sévérine cursed as she heard the banging of the door knocker out front. Tonight's clients were already here and she still wasn't ready. She smeared at the edges of her eyeliner with shaky fingers and applied her deep red lipstick. Standing straight in front of her full length mirror and smoothing out the wrinkles of her short, black satin robe. She felt sluggish and weak as she walked down the staircase, wobbly on her high heels, gripping the bannister for support as her balance wavered. Her head throbbed painfully as she joined the queue of girls that were lining up shoulder to shoulder in the front hall. Even the dim hallway light irritated Sévérine's eyes, causing her to rub the side of her forehead in discomfort._

_The usual numbing calm that Sévérine felt after a dose of heroin, refused to ease her aching body. Instead she felt light-headed and nauseous. She realized now that it was probably a bad idea to inject such a high dosage into her blood stream so quickly, when her body had been deprived of the heroin for days._

_A sudden nudge to the ribs caused Sévérine to straighten up. She hadn't realized that her head had been drooping forward. _

"_Snap out of it!" The girl who nudged her said urgently under her breath, "Or House Mother will punish all of us."_

"_Sorry." Sévérine whispered back, staring straight and squaring her shoulders as House Mother opened the door._

_Five men walked into the room, dressed in shaded forest green and tan camouflage army uniforms. Every single one of them with eager grins displayed on their faces as they took in the sight of all the women displayed before them. Save for one, the smaller built of the group, who seemed wide-eyed and a little uneasy about being present in a brothel._

"_Welcome!" House mother said, ushering them all inside to take a closer look. Her English was heavily accented but well-practiced. It wasn't the first time foreigners had visited the brothel. Sévérine tuned her out as House Mother gave the Americans her usual spiel about being the best brothel in the Northern District. She had grown tired of hearing it and instead stared longing up the stairs at her closed bedroom door, wanting nothing more than to lie down._

_Although Sévérine hated to admit it, she had to give House Mother her credit. Their business was the most frequently visited brothel for a reason. Unlike the others, House Mother decided to place her brothel away from the blinding lights of Macau's casinos and skyscrapers, choosing a location just beyond the buildings' shadows. She used exclusivity to her strength. There were no signs outside the door declaring that this place was a brothel. The only way to be allowed entry was through word of mouth. It was one of the few that didn't hide behind a false façade of a hotel or massage parlor. Pretty soon men came flocking to the brothel, hoping to catch a glimpse of 'The real side of Macau'. They wanted something more exotic than the cliché tourist traps that lined downtown. It wasn't uncommon for Sévérine to serve five clients in one night at the very least. The thought of this always made Sévérine sick to her stomach._

_House Mother had finally finished talking and the American soldiers were now perusing the women in front of them with concentration. _

"_Jake!" one of them said, pulling the nervous looking soldier forward, "You're the birthday boy, you get first pick!" The other soldiers rallied in agreement, slapping Jake on the back as he stepped forward. _

"_Really, any one of them is fine." He muttered, avoiding making any eye contact with the women in front of him. A few of the women stifled their giggles. It had been a while since any of them had seen such a timid man walk into their brothel._

_Jake shrugged his shoulders, "I don't know," he said, "why don't you guys pick for me."_

_A bulky muscled soldier with buzz-cut blonde hair seemed eager for the task. "Decisions, decisions." he laughed, crossing his arms and lightly stroking his chin, as he paced the women in front of him. _

_Some of the girls next to Sévérine straightened up, eager to have a gentle man like Jake lay with them for the night. Sévérine glanced at the floor avoiding making eye contact with both Jake and the blonde soldier. It wasn't that Jake was bad-looking, Sévérine actually found him quite handsome. His dark brown eyes had a delicate kindness to him but he seemed tense and uncomfortable. Sévérine knew that it would take a lot of coaxing to talk him into bed, something that she currently didn't have the strength or patience for at the moment. If she had to choose she would probably pick one of the rowdier soldiers, just to get it over with. Men like that never lasted long in bed anyway._

"_What about her?" another soldier called pointing forward._

_**Just my luck,**__ Sévérine thought moodily. Trying not to grimace as she felt the blonde soldier lift her chin up, she knew she was already on thin ice with House Mother._

"_She seems pretty." The blonde soldier said, tilting her face to the side so that Jake could get a better look._

_Jake ran his hands through his short cropped black hair uncertainly, "Yeah, ok." He said, looking like he wanted to be anywhere else in the world right now._

_"Alright, my work here is done!" the blonde soldier said, letting go of Sévérine's chin and busying himself with choosing his own girl for the night._

_Sévérine stepped forward and fixed a smile on her face, taking Jake's hand in hers, "This way." She said leading him up the staircase, knowing she had her work cut out for her._

_"So," Sévérine said, closing her bedroom door shut behind her, "Mr.—?"_

_"Clarke." Jake said, "Jacob Clarke, Ma'am."_

_Sévérine laughed lightly. "At ease soldier." she said, staring in amusement at Jake who was standing rigidly in front of her, hands neatly folded behind his back. "Please, call me Sévérine."_

_"Sévérine" Jake repeated, nodding as he eased his stance._

_She walked towards her dresser, leaning against the edge of it and pulling out a cigarette from a carton, offering one to Jake but he politely declined._

_"So, Mr. Clarke," Sévérine said. Lighting her cigarette and taking a drag, before exhaling the smoke smoothly from her lips. "Tell me about yourself."_

_"Well," Jake said, "I grew up in North Carolina and enlisted in the army when I was eighteen. Been in it for three years now, me and my buddies are currently on leave from Afghanistan so we decided to come here for a while. A lot of the other soldiers told us nothing but good things about this place so we decided we oughta check it out."_

_Sévérine looked intrigued, "What kind of good things?" she asked, although she was pretty sure she knew exactly what it was the other soldiers would have been so eager to brag home about._

_"Umm…" Jake paused, nervously stammering, "I'm not quite sure I remember exactly—"_

_Sévérine bit back a smile. Jake was three years her senior, but right now he seemed like a scared little boy. It was funny watching him squirm under her question, but she felt a little cruel making him more nervous than he already was. She stubbed out her cigarette in the glass ash tray next to her. Deciding she would put Jake out of his misery._

_"I hear it's your birthday?" She said, standing up from the dresser and strutting towards him._

_Jake nodded, gulping at the lump in his throat "Just turned twenty-one, Ma'am" he said._

_Sévérine smiled as she carefully began unbuttoning his stiff camouflage jacket. "And you're spending it with me? Mr. Clarke I'm flattered." she said, helping him shrug the jacket off. She was surprised to see the toned muscles of his arms accentuated by his fitted white t-shirt._

_Jake quickly wiped the nervous sweat away from his brow as he watched Sévérine untie the knot of her robe to reveal her matching black lace panties and bra underneath. Sévérine leaned close to him, hearing his rapid breaths as she took his hands in hers._

_"You need to relax, Jake." She whispered, her lips lightly brushing his ear as she guided his hands to her waist._

_"Sorry." Jake apologized, "It's just…I've never really done anything like this before," he said, "We don't really have any places like this back home."_

_"That's alright." Sévérine said, sliding his hands up along her sides to caress her breasts. "You know what they say, there's a first time for everything."_

_Sévérine slipped her arms around the back of Jake's neck, kissing him delicately on the lips._

_She leaned in further as she felt Jake's kiss deepen, cradling his head closer to hers. She closed her eyes tighter as she tried to ignore the dull, throbbing pain in her head, wincing as she struggled to constrain her body from trembling again._

_"Sévérine, are you alright?" Jake asked pulling away from kissing her._

_"I'm fine." She said faintly. She clutched at Jakes's arm to steady herself, the room felt like it was rocking back and forth so much that she could barely keep her balance. The floor seemed like it was tilting under her feet. Jake's voice sounded muffled in her ears._

_"You're shaking." He said in concern._

_She stared vacantly at Jake, her mind cloudy and dazed, blinking repeatedly as her vision slid in an out of focus. She could feel her heart thumping clumsily in her chest. She tried to breathe but air seemed to refuse to enter her lungs. Sévérine felt her legs give out from under her, her body weakening under the weight of gravity. She braced herself for the cold hardwood floor as she felt herself falling._

_A pair of strong arms caught her just before she hit the ground. Sévérine clung to the front of Jake's shirt, holding on for dear life as she watched the ceiling spinning at a dizzying speed. She shivered as she felt Jake's icy hand on her forehead. **Why were his hands so cold?** She wondered._

_"Jesus Christ, you're burning up." He said. Jake stared at Sévérine in panic, her body now covered in a sheen of cold sweat and continuing to shiver more fiercely. "Maybe I should call someone?" he said glancing at the door desperately._

_"No, don't!" She pleaded, clinging to Jake's shirt more tightly to prevent him from leaving. She struggled to sit up. Trying to salvage what was left of the night. If House Mother found out that she had collapsed in front of one of her clients, Sévérine knew that she would make good on her promise of a severe beating._

_Sévérine sat up and hunched over clutching her side. She felt like her insides were liquefying._

_Jake noticed the multiple puncture wounds on Sévérine's left arm, two of them still fresh with dots of blood. He quickly surveyed the room, noticing a burnt metal spoon on top of the dresser._

_"How much did you take?" Jake asked Sévérine._

_Sévérine stared at the floor in confusion, her brain not quite working properly. She wasn't sure if she was hallucinating, but the floorboards at the moment seemed to be warping like melting wax before her eyes._

_Jake gently held her face in his hands, "Sévérine." He said more firmly forcing her to look at him. He stared directly into her eyes now. "How much heroin did you take?"_

_Sévérine blinked. Her mind wandering, she quickly glanced at her forearm and cursed herself inwardly, realizing that she had forgotten to cover up her injection marks with makeup. She was surprised at how different Jake seemed right now compared to the nervous boy she thought him to be earlier; he was confident and in control of the situation. She figured quick thinking like that was needed in the army._

_Jake shook her slightly as he saw her eyes glazing over. Sévérine snapped out of it. "I don't know, "she mumbled finally, "maybe sixty milligrams." She squeezed her eyes shut as she felt another wave of pain surge through her body._

_"You need to lie down." Jake said, standing her up and placing her arm over his shoulder as he helped her stagger to the bed._

_Jake pulled back the white sheets, cradling Sévérine in his arms and laying her down gently. He hurried to the porcelain sink on the opposite wall of the bedroom, filling a glass with water._

_"Here, drink this." He instructed, carefully helping Sévérine lift her head and tilting the glass towards her lips._

_Sévérine gulped the water down quickly. She hadn't realized how dry her mouth had felt until now._

_"More?" Jake asked, holding on to the now empty glass._

_Sévérine shook her head, leaning her head back down into the pillow. She felt so drained, she just wanted to sleep. Jake set the glass on a table, and draped a blanket over her._

_"Thank you." Sévérine said weakly, staring up at him, her eyelids getting heavier with fatigue._

_Jake brushed the hair away from her forehead "Get some rest." He said._


	5. Chapter 5: Silva

**A/N: Yikes! Sorry for the delay, I guess I got a little too caught up with all the holiday festivities. This chapter was a doozy. I think I rewrote it about three times before I was finally satisfied with it. This was originally going to be two chapters but I figured with me taking so long to update that I should just merge it all into one. Anyways a couple of things: 1) I'd like to remind you that the story is rated M...umm you'll see why... 2) Thank you everyone for reviewing! Reading each review was like opening a little Christmas present haha. 3)I think that's everything. Let me know what you think! Happy belated holidays!**

* * *

_Sévérine walked through the shiny sliding doors of the casino. She never considered herself lucky, but perhaps all that would change tonight. Out of all the women in the brothel he had picked her. She wasn't quite sure why but Sévérine decided not to dwell on it. Why question good fortune? When she had come crawling back to the brothel yesterday she assumed she would never step foot outside of those doors again. And yet her she was now in Downtown Macau, at a casino named after some Italian village that she couldn't even pronounce if she wanted to._

_Unable to help herself Sévérine stood in awe as she entered the main lobby. The gold awnings and marble pillars made her feel like she had entered a foreign kingdom. Her eyes rose to meet the high painted ceilings._

"_Out!" _

_Sévérine tore her eyes away from the ceiling, feeling as though she had been unceremoniously pulled back down to earth._

"_Get out!" one of the security guards yelled again pointing towards the door._

"_But—"Sévérine paused, unsure of what to say. She hadn't expected to be stopped by anyone. _

_He grabbed her roughly by the wrist, "People like you are not allowed inside without a hotel guest escort, now get out!"_

"_My client instructed me to meet him here." she said, yanking her arm away from the security guard. No one had warned her that she would be met with such hostility upon entering the casino. In reality Sévérine wasn't exactly sure who her client was yet, she didn't even know his name. Earlier that afternoon a stout man dressed in a suit had walked into the brothel, considering the women in front of him before selecting Sévérine:_

"_**You're to meet my employer at eight. He's staying in the Chairman Suite, Top Floor." **_

_**Sévérine stared at the man in confusion, the girls were hardly ever allowed to leave the brothel, and when they did it was only to meet with their most loyal and high paying clients; it was one of House Mother's many rules. **_

_**Before House Mother even opened her mouth to retort back, the man handed her a thick white envelope. House Mother discreetly opened it her eyes widening slightly. She nodded in assent to the man as she carefully slid the envelope into her vest pocket. The man clearly knew how things tended to work around here.**_

"_**A car will be sent for you tonight at seven-thirty sharp," The man said turning back to Sévérine, "Don't be late." He added before leaving abruptly without another word.**_

_The guard laughed at her, "That's what all they say before I find whores like you soliciting our guests at the bar."_

_Sévérine felt her anger rising she was tired of being treated as though she were the scum of the earth. Surely her client was a man of great power and that had to count for something._

"_My client's a very powerful man you know, staying in the Chairman Suite." Sévérine said, watching as the security guard's grin faltered. "I'm expected at eight and I'm sure he would hate to be kept waiting."_

_The security guard scowled as he removed the walkie-talkie from his belt and muttered into it. He grimaced, distancing the walkie-talkie away from his ear as he heard the hotel manager yelling through it._

_He stared at her grudgingly. "My apologies Miss Sévérine." He said, stepping aside to let her through._

"_Thank you." She replied coolly, resisting the urge to slap him across the face as she made her way to the elevators._

* * *

_Sévérine watched the gilded metal doors slide shut, leaving her confined in a still quiet as the elevator lifted her higher and higher away from the bustle of the casino below. She took a deep breath watching as the floor number finally reached thirty-nine, her heart pounding as she exited the elevator and walked down the stretching hallway._

_She hesitated in front of the door of the suite wondering what she would be walking into this time. Men were strange creatures. Sévérine had realized this a long time ago. They could be selfish and merciless when they wanted to be. The men she had been forced to sleep with had taught her to know her place. They forced her to adapt, to change her very being in order to fulfill what they desired. Most of her clients were gamblers and drunks, their breath reeking of hard liquor when they kissed her, simply looking for something to make their night more enjoyable. _

_Others were a little more complex to deal with; like the husbands who were fed up with their wives or children or job, or a combination of all three. Usually they were just craving for someone to inflict all their frustration on. _

_There were the eager-eyed tourists that were looking for someone exotic, aching to have their perverted fantasies fulfilled by her. _

_Then there were the wealthy businessmen, the clients that Sévérine feared the most. They would walk into the brothel clad in sleek suits looking every part of a proper gentleman. But as soon as Sévérine's bedroom door shut behind them the deceptive image was shed. They'd hiss and growl about how miserable work was, their pent up rage from years of being ordered around by their superiors just waiting to be released. Some of them had the audacity to bring their own devices; ropes and chains, gags to muffle her screams. They'd whisper the filthiest things in her ear. Make lewd jokes about how they would ride her just as hard as their boss was riding them at work. Then they would tie her up like she was some animal and fuck her like she was their property, just so they could feel in control for once._

_No matter whom her client was, Sévérine played whatever role they demanded of her. Vixen or victim it didn't matter. Even if her clients slapped her around, leaving her bruised and beaten on her bedroom floor or hogtied to the bedposts, she suffered through all of it. She did what she had to in order to survive, if she could even call it that. _

_Sévérine took a deep breath now, wondering what role she would have to play tonight for her client as she finally knocked on the door of the Chairman Suite._

* * *

"_Come in." came a voice from behind the door._

_The room was softly lit by the many sconces on the wall, fixtures gilded in gold to match the décor she had noticed earlier in the hotel lobby. As she stepped further inside, Sévérine took notice that the room was probably larger than the entire building of the brothel. She stared in awe at the panoramic window in front of her, the curtains drawn back to reveal the luminous city of Downtown Macau. _

"_It's beautiful, isn't it?"_

_Sévérine jumped, startled at the sudden interruption. She had been so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she hadn't even noticed that there was someone standing in the room with her._

_The man was leaning casually against the bar, a tumbler of scotch in his right hand. Sévérine struggled to keep her face guarded as she stared at him. Although she had never laid eyes on him until tonight, she was certain that she knew this man. With his wavy hair a shockingly bright blonde, and his tan tailored suit paired with a delicate blue ascot scarf, Sévérine knew exactly who this man was. He was quite the subject of gossip around the brothel. She had heard about him a few months ago when he first arrived in Macau, many claimed it was on a private chartered jet. Sévérine wasn't sure exactly what it was he did for a living, some say he controlled a large portion of the drug cartels, others say he had strong ties within the government, perhaps it was both. All she knew was that he was without a doubt the richest man in Macau._

_The man drained his tumbler of scotch, abandoning his glass at the bar as he walked towards her. "Silva," He introduced himself, holding his hand out to her, "Raoul Silva." He said, confirming Sévérine's suspicions of his identity. "You must be—?"_

"_Sévérine." She said, finally composing herself enough to speak._

"_Sévérine," he repeated, the name rolling off his tongue in a perfect accent, "such a lovely name." He gently held her hand in his, delicately pressing a kiss. __"Est-ce que vous êtes français__?"_

_Sévérine gave a__ small__ smile, "Oui, ma mère était française."_

_Silva grinned, giving a small clap in delight, "Et votre père?" he asked._

_Sévérine's jaw tightened briefly, she broke eye contact with Silva, hoping that he hadn't noticed. "He was Chinese." She said, reverting back to English._

_Silva stared in fascination, he noticed a flicker of emotion in Sévérine's eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared._

"_Come," he said finally, his boyish grin returning to his face. He gestured towards the wide window in front of them, "Let us look at the view." _

_Sévérine walked forward. Bright lights in shades of all colors twinkled back at her against the dark night sky, dancing to melodies that were silenced by the thick glass of the hotel window, the view from so high above stealing her breath away. She closed her eyes when she felt Silva behind her, brushing her hair away, softly kissing her shoulder. Her hand pressing against the cold glass when she felt him unfasten the top clasp of her slim black dress, sliding the zipper down her back ever so slowly. Sévérine turned to face him now, her dress slipping to the floor; clad in nothing but her laced underwear. She wasn't sure why she felt so nervous now. _

_Silva held out his hand for her and Sévérine took it, following obediently as he led her into the bedroom. She stood in the middle of the spacious room, watching as Silva shrugged off his jacket and neatly folded it over a chair before motioning for Sévérine to sit on the bed._

_It wasn't until then that Sévérine realized how intimidating Silva seemed. Now that she was perched on the edge of the white linen sheeted bed, Silva seemed to tower over her. She had been with plenty of rich men before, men who knew that they had power because of it; by the end of the night all the men Sévérine slept with assumed that they had power over her as well. But Sévérine noticed that he didn't carry himself the way they usually did. She was certain Silva was aware of his stature, but he didn't seem the kind to flaunt it. He didn't need his money to prove his power. Something told her that it wasn't just his money that made him superior, something deep in his eyes, lurking in the shadows told Sévérine that he was aware of other means to gain control. She wondered now if he could see her heart hammering against her chest._

_She trembled as he sat next to her, turning her chin to face him and gazing steadily into her eyes. Something in his stare made her uneasy, the way they seemed to burn into her soul. She knew in that moment that Silva was different. To a certain degree, Sévérine had grown skilled in anticipating what to expect from her clients upon meeting them. But Silva was the only exception. It terrified her to be sitting next to a man shrouded in mystery, not knowing what his next move was going to be._

_She gasped when he finally kissed her; slowly and assuredly, guiding her to lie on the bed, his hands skimming over every inch of her body and removing the rest of her clothing. His lips traveled lower, softly trailing along her collar bone and over each of her breasts before nipping at her navel and wandering below her waist. Sévérine bit her lip in anticipation. All this was new to her. She had hated every aspect of sex, all the pain and humiliation. The way all those men had used her in such a degrading way made her sick to her stomach. The empty, worthless feeling she felt afterwards never helped the situation much either. _

_But this…She wasn't sure what this was. Silva was doing something to her that she couldn't quite explain. _

_Suddenly she clenched the sheets, unable to stifle a moan as she felt his tongue upon her, her hips pressing towards his kiss. She could practically feel his smile against her as his kiss deepened. She shivered as she felt his hand slither up her thigh, a finger delving inside of her. __**What was he doing?**_

"_Don't," she moaned softly. Sévérine didn't like this feeling, like her body was spiraling out of control. _

"_Don't?" Silva asked, amused as he watched Sévérine's reactions. Still not relenting, he slid another finger._

_Sévérine's hand clung weakly to his arm, her back arching, "Mr. Silva, please—"she begged, feeling his fingers bury deeper, not exactly sure what it was that she was begging for anymore. Her breathing was rapid and shallow, her body trembling as his fingers continued to pump rhythmically inside her. She was so close to the edge._

_She whimpered at a loss when he suddenly pulled his hand away from her._

"_Tell me what you want, Sévérine." He said, his lips unbearably close to her ear and his hand lazily stroking the back of her leg and up her thigh, waiting for her answer._

"_I—"Sévérine stammered, her thoughts cloudy and confused. Why was he asking her this, and was now really the time to be doing so? _

_In all her life, she couldn't think of a single moment when anyone had wondered what she wanted, in the end it was always about them; their needs, their desires. No one ever seemed to care about hers._

_Silva brushed his lips against her neck, lightly nipping at her earlobe, "Tell me." He repeated. Sévérine's breathing quickened as he continued to kiss her neck. How did he expect her to think straight with all the things he was doing to her?_

_She could tell by the tone of his voice that she had better come up with a response soon, or she would deeply regret it. Her mind was muddled, muttering incoherently as Silva's teeth grazed her throat. She had no idea why her body was reacting this way. Just a few moments ago she had hated the very thought of sex and everything it had stood for. And now…now Sévérine realized that Silva practically had her begging for it._

_Silva stopped, his eyes staring steadily into hers. Sévérine flinched as he continued to gaze at her, like he could read her every thought. She swallowed at the lump in her throat finally surrendering to her body's desires._

"_I—, I don't want you to stop." She breathed. Her chest rising and falling, heart beating wildly in her chest, knowing she would regret her actions in the morning, right now she could care less._

_Silva unbuckled his belt, his body now looming over Sévérine. "That wasn't so hard, now was it?" he said, smiling proudly like he had won a game and was awaiting his prize._

_Sévérine shook her head, her eyes closed in anticipation. She groaned when she finally felt him against her, her hips meeting each thrust. His name was a curse upon her lips repeated over and over, her nails raking along his back as she stared at the ceiling trying to block all thoughts from her mind. She didn't want to think about how much she was enjoying this. _

_Sévérine felt her muscles tense like taut wires ready to snap, each movement pushing her closer and closer to the edge. _

_She buried her face in his shoulder, her body shuddering and shaking, all of it too much for her to take. Silva gripped her waist tighter before she was finally crying out, not caring if all of Macau heard her as she came undone under his arms._

* * *

"I hope it wasn't my snoring that's been keeping you awake." Bond said, leaning against the door frame.

Sévérine's hand jerked, startled at the sound of Bond's voice. The heroin needle shattering as it fell on the bathroom floor.

"Damn it!" she muttered.

"Here," Bond offered, grabbing a hand towel off of the marble vanity and kneeling next to Sévérine.

"It's nothing, I'm fine." Sévérine said, pulling her arm away from Bond.

"Clearly you're not." Bond said pointing out the drops of blood that were now trickling down Sévérine's shaking arm.

"Well if you hadn't startled me—"Sévérine sighed, stopping herself from finishing her sentence. She wasn't in any mood to argue.

"There are bandages in the medicine cabinet." She said, figuring that Bond might as well make himself useful while he was here.

Bond stood up and opened the mirror cabinet, grabbing the band aids. He gave a low whistle when he saw all the needles lining the shelves, picking one up and inspecting it. "This is some pretty heavy stuff," he said, "You can get yourself killed if you're not careful."

Sévérine snatched the Band-Aid from his hand and applied it to her forearm, "Believe me Mr. Bond, I can think of worse ways to die." She said.

Bond noticed the edge in her voice. "You're scared about tomorrow aren't you?" he said, kneeling down to face Sévérine again.

"There's no need to be," he said matter-of-factly, "I said I would take care of Silva, and I have every intention to do so."

A hint of anger stirred within Sévérine, she had tried to remain patient with Bond. Really she had. But his over confidence continued to infuriate her. She hated the way he assumed that he could read her every thought, picking away at her to expose her emotions like it was a neat little puzzle for him to solve. He was no different from Silva at all.

"You're a very confident man Mr. Bond." She said.

Bond smiled, "Well, I think my line of work warrants a little pride every now and then. I'm sure your employer knows all about that. We're not so different; him and I."

Sévérine glared at Bond, angered at his aloofness, did he really think he had both her and Silva all figured out? That he could just waltz onto the island and intimidate Silva just because he was of the same background as him. Surely Bond would have to realize at some point that Silva was more than just a fellow colleague gone astray. Silva was dangerous and heartless, looking to destroy anyone that stood in his devious path.

"Have you always been this self-centered?" Sévérine asked before she could stop herself.

Bond shrugged, "I'm afraid so."

"You're lying." Sévérine said, calling his bluff. It was her turn to make assumptions about him now. It was her chance to play the guessing game that he seemed to know all too well. Bond may be cut from the same cloth as Silva, but she was starting to realize that he wasn't so different from her either. The way he pretended to put on a brave face in front of the world. He wore his confidence like a mask, hiding all his inner demons, shrouding himself in secrecy. She knew all too well what it was like to keep secrets, to want to bury a pain so deep that you wish with all your soul to forget it. Even if only for a moment, just long enough to barely carry on in the world.

"I can see it in your eyes," she continued, "I know you must have cared for someone other than yourself at one point in your life. Perhaps you've been in love and hurt so deeply by them that you refuse to acknowledge them now, but they're there; in your mind, and in your heart. Surely you've been in love before Mr. Bond, haven't you?"

Bond's face was impassive, Sévérine wondered if she had struck a nerve. Perhaps she had gone too far. She immediately regretted all that she had said, wondering if Bond was going to beat the living daylights out of her now, Silva without a doubt would have.

She watched as Bond stood up and walked away back towards the bedroom. "You should get some sleep. We have a big day tomorrow." He said. His voice was leveled and smooth, as though everything that Sévérine said had not affected him in the slightest.

Sévérine stared as Bond retreated back to bed. Her eyes watered with tears of frustration. She cursed herself for letting her emotions get the best of her again and quickly wiped away her tears with a shaky hand. What upset Sévérine the most was that Bond had been right; she was scared. She was terrified that soon they would be arriving on the island and Silva would be right there waiting for them. An unsettling feeling had been nagging her since she had first laid eyes on Bond at the casino. A voice within her that she just couldn't silence told her that things might go wrong tomorrow, that she was a fool for believing that she could destroy Silva. And that in the end the only thing that would be destroyed was herself.

Sévérine walked back into the bedroom, noticing that Bond already seemed fast asleep in bed. She took off her robe and slipped into bed next to him; their backs facing each other.

She froze when she felt Bond shift his position, waiting with bated breath wondering what his next move would be.

"Vesper." He said finally, breaking the pressing silence between them. "Her name was Vesper."

Sévérine parted her lips to reply or at least apologize, but decided against it. The tone of his voice informed her that this was the first, and would probably be the last time he would ever speak about this woman again.

Bond paused, noticing something and discreetly pulled the bed covers aside. He was staring at Sévérine's back now, his brow furrowed in concern. He was shocked that he hadn't noticed them before; the scars that spread across her back. Some were faint thin lines faded over the years, others were heavy welts and burns, a few of them merely weeks old. A flash of resentment blazed through him. Who in their right mind would do this to someone? He had assumed that the reason for Sévérine's fear earlier was because she might have been scolded a few times by her employer. But this, what he was seeing now; as clear as day on Sévérine's body; this was torture.

"This man—Silva," Bond said softly, masking the anger in his voice. "He really did a number on you, didn't he?"

Sévérine sighed, feeling as though the weight of the world was upon her shoulders. She shivered as she felt Bond's fingers gently tracing the scars along her back.

"You have no idea." She said in a voice barely above a whisper. She closed her eyes letting the effects of the drugs and fatigue overtake her and ease her back to sleep.

* * *

**a/n: For anyone wondering, here's the translation of the french conversation (just to let you know my french is a little rusty, so for all the french speakers out there, let me know if I made any mistakes!)**

**Silva: "Are you french?"**

**Severine: "Yes, my mother was french."**

**Silva; "And your father?"**


End file.
